


Final Communion

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Investigations, Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-12
Updated: 2003-09-12
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: A serial killer from Scully's past reaches out to complete the job he didn't finish ten years ago.





	Final Communion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Final Communion

## Final Communion

### by Foxhunt2blue

TITLE: Final Communion  
AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue  
RATING: NC-17 for Violence & Language  
SUMMARY: A serial killer from Scully's past reaches out to complete the job he didn't finish ten years ago. DISCLAIMER: Sob! :( I don't own them CC does! ARCHIVE: YES!!! Just let me know.  
FEEDBACK: Please I breath & sleep it!!  
DEDICATION: Sam your gift to me inspired me to complete what I conceived over a year ago. You have an artist's soul! Hurry up and give it back before they miss it LOL ;) 

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

He wakes in the darkness, a place he knows to well. 

Pain ripples across his body as he looks down from his lofty prison. She kneels at his feet, a veil of white leaving her face in shadow. He can hear the whispered plea of her words as she prays to her God...a God that ceased to exist for him years ago when he lost his reason for being. 

"Hear me Father...spare his life. Help me find a way to save him from this." 

He has never heard her like this before, not even when she lay dying of the cancer as it ate her body away, her very soul. 

The sound of shattered bones grinding together as he weakly struggles to free himself send chills down his spine. He lost all feeling in his hands and feet hours ago he was grateful for the shock that swallowed the pain. 

Metal grinding against bone, against shredded flesh. 

The spikes holding him to the wooden limbs of the crude cross have marked him for life even if he escapes this place he will carry the marks for the rest of his life. 

Fire ripples up his side as he takes ragged breaths through the rag that gags him, silences his screams, as the spear slices through his flesh as if it were warm butter. Tears he had long thought dried up well in his swollen eyes, trickling down his pale face just as the blood trickles down his naked side. 

"Stop it! Stop it! You sick fucker...oh, Jesus he can't take any more. You twisted son of a bitch!" Her cries are equal to his pain as she pulls at the chain that binds her to the concrete. 

"He isn't the one who did it! I did! God, please it's me you want...not him!" 

"Hush Mary...," the spears blade rips a muffled shriek from his captives lungs. 

"I am not Mary! Why can't you understand that!?" 

* * *

**DECEMBER 19, 1989**   
**QUANTICO-OUTER PERIMETER**

* * *

Lungs burning, legs threatening to collapse beneath her, she refused to give in to the fear. She let the anger drive her on well aware that soon the adrenilan would wear out and she would be faced with the pain, both her body and her mind. 

Dana Scully refused to believe that she wouldn't finish what she had started. Her father had been furious with her when she had chose to leave her blossoming career in medicine to join the FBI. That had been almost as bad as the pain she had been trying to escape, the pain of what she had thought was true love gone sour. 

Finally the pain was to much and her body refused to go on collapsing in a bundle of shivering flesh as the first flakes of snow began to fall. Sucking in desperate lungfuls of icy air she let the tears finally fall as she replayed the conversation over and over in her throbbing head. 

<Dana...honey we miss you baby.>

<I think it would be better if I stayed here Mom. I have so much to do and so litt...>

<Your father misses you Dana.>

That wasn't true, she thought, Dad had been out to sea for the last six months. He was just hoping she had given in to his wishes by now, that she had given up on this stubborn fantasy she had. 

"Damn you," she hissed between clenched teeth. "Why can't you just understand Daddy. I have to do this...I just have too." 

<It's Christmas Dana...the whole family wants you here. Your father loves you honey...he just wants what's best for you.>

Struggling to her feet she swiped at the tears that stained her face, then headed back to the dormitory. 

Worn out, exausted she made it back to the women's dorm just as the last of the bleak grey winter light faded. As she looped arond the corner she almost ran straight into the man who was waiting outside her door. 

"What the...!" 

"I'm sorry. Are you Dana Scully?" 

"Yes, I am. Who are you?" 

"Special Agent in Charge Jason Devereux. Can I speak with you for a moment ma'am." 

* * *

**J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING**   
**DECEMBER 19, 2000**

* * *

She hadn't thought of Jason Devereux in over ten years. Not since she had been called out of her training to help on the case, she now realized, that had caused her to stay. The idea of maybe getting to be a field agent had been very enticing, Two years later she had been assigned to the X-Files. 

Now here she was staring at an obituary for the first male Agent who had given her respect as an equal. Jason had been one of the kindest and most intelligent men she had ever had the pleasure of knowing. To think anyone could have done this to him was holy unbelievable. 

"Shit!" 

The sharp bark of her partner's voice followed by the thud of him hitting the floor shocked her from the black thoughts she had been surrounded with. Turning she couldn't help the childish giggle that escaped her at the sight before her. 

Fox Mulder sprawled out on his back, legs and arms ascew, his hair damp with snow, sticking out in all directions. Another giggle escaped her when he tried to stand up and hit the floor with another stream of profanity. Mulder didn't normally use that type of language, but when he did her father would have been proud. He even used a few she didn't recognize that she assumed were from his days at Oxford. 

"Not Funny!!" He hissed as he tried once more, the soles of his dress shoes skidding beneath him in a parody of ice skating. 

When he was finally able to stand he tried to capture back some of his dignity that had been lost in a flurry of unbalanced limbs. 

"So what you reading?" He poked a finger at the abandoned file on the desk in front of her. 

Suddenly the dark cloud lowered over her again. 

"Jason Devereux," she whispered fingering the edge of the folder. 

"The agent in charge of the Chicago VCU? The one that was murdered?" Mulder drapped his coat over the rack by the door, then carefully moved to the chair behind his desk. 

"Yes, we...," she paused thinking of the man she had met all those years ago. What had they truely had between them? Before Mulder he been the closest to a best friend in the Bureau she had. 

"You knew him?" Mulder raised a brow trying to smooth his hair down. 

"Yeah, we met when I was still in training at the Academy." 

* * *

**DECEMBER 20, 1989**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**

* * *

She was at a lose for words. 

Here she was just a few short months from graduation and she had already impressed someone in the Old Boys Network enough that they had given her a sterling recommendation. 

"Oh...Hi Dana!" 

Lifting her eyes from the file she had been engrossed in she smiled at the tall slim dark haired man waving from across the crowded police station. 

"Agent Devereux." 

"Please call me Jason. How was your trip?" 

"The flight was delayed out of DC, but the drive was nice. To tell you the truth I was expecting Warrenton to be closer to Chicago than it is." 

"Yeah, well it seems the small towns aren't even safe from the nutjobs anymore." 

Jason had been respectful in everyway, introducing her to the other agents not as a student of Quantico, but as Dr. Dana Scully, a young pathologist that was going to be teaching at Quantico. A young woman who had been in the top ten percent of her class, a student who had re-written Einstein's theories. There was a connection between them from the very beginning, a big brother who wasn't over protective like her actual brothers had been. 

"Dana." 

She smiled at the way he said her name with a dignity she had never thought that particular name held. 

"Thank you Jason for such a sterling introduction. As you all know I am a pathologist and I will be working with Dr. Richardson and his fantastic staff on the autopsies of the last two victims. It appears from what I've read that the victims were held for an undisclosed period of time during which the perp crucified them. There were traces of iron in the wounds that pierced the wrists and feet. Is that correct doctor?" 

"Yes, Dr. Scully." 

One of the field agents in attendance lifted his hand. 

"Yes, Agent...," she raised a brow. 

"Perez. Jamie Perez. I would like to point out that this is not a crucifixtion in the standard understanding." 

"No...not in the preconceived notion of the general public, but it is a historically accurate one. In a true crucifixtion the human body can not be supported by the nails through the palms as represented in the religious artifacts of the present. True crucifixtions were done through the thickest point of the wrist." 

* * *

**DECEMBER 19, 2000**   
**OFFICE OF FOX MULDER**

* * *

"...it says here that he was crucified." 

"What?" Scully looked up in confusion. 

"It says that Jason Devereux was crucified. Has to be a religious nut of some sort. It also says his wife is still missing and that they were taken from their own bed in the middle of the night." 

"Megan was one of the agents working with us on the case where I met Jason. I actually set them up...I can't believe he's dead." 

Mulder sat down smiling softly as he reached out, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Are you going to Chicago?" 

Glancing up through a sheen of tears she whispered, "What?" 

"Chicago...for the funeral?" 

Now Mulder was worried, she could see it in the way his eyes seemed to shift colors. She was afraid to ask him what she had too. There was going to be a trip, but not just for Jason's funeral. 

"Mulder I need you to come with me to Chicago." 

Curiosity warred with worry in his dark stare. 

"This isn't something I can explain Mulder easily, but I have to go for other reasons than personal ones. The case we worked on together...it was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced until Donnie Phaster." 

Mulder drew back at that admission. No matter how much time had passed, he had never expected her to admit the fear that he had seen in her eyes when Phaster had been captured. He sat staring at her wondering why she had never mentioned Jason Devereux before or this case they had worked on. 

"I know who killed Jason." 

That sent his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. 

"You know who killed him, but how??" 

"The bastard we caught ten years ago. He was taken care of...he was gone, but I know it's him Mulder. It has to be...there is no one who knew the details of his MO." 

"Who?" Mulder's eyes darkened at the tremor that moved through her body. 

"James Ingalles." 

"The Crucifix Killer! Dammit Scully you worked that case?" 

"Yes...and there are details in this file, details of Jason's murder that only he would know. I know it sounds crazy...," her voice trailed off. 

"Scully listen to me it can't be Ingalles." 

"But...," 

"He was executed in the gas chamber two years ago." 

When her head jerked up he saw the terror in her eyes. Strong and black it made his decision for him. 

He was going to Chicago. 

* * *

**DECEMBER 23, 1989**   
**DARK ROAD INN**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**

* * *

She sat silently watching the flames swirl around the logs as if it possessed a life of it's own. Two days after she had arrived another victim had been taken. She was beginning to wonder is she should have taken her chances with her family. 

Lifting the glass of wine from the side table she brought it slowly to her lips, it's sweet flavor struggling to cover the bitter taste of failure. They had called her down here in hopes of catching this bastard before any others fell, but she had failed. 

"Hey there... how are you doing Dana?" 

Glancing up over the rim of glass she met Jason's dark eyes, eyes filled with concern. 

"I'm fine," she whispered as she fought back the tears. 

"No, you're not...neither am I or anyone who's working this case," he knelt in front of the fire. 

"Why did you ask for my help?" 

Jason looked up---startled by her fierce words. 

"You were recommended by one of your instructors. I was told that you were the best pathologist he had ever had the pleasure of knowing...he also said that you had a very detail oriented eye." 

"Really? I do try to pride myself in my...," 

"Dana where is your family?" 

"Family?" 

"Yes...your family. I know I miss mine...it's Christmas and I'd rather be there." 

"They understand about my work," she whispered taking another swallow of wine. 

"Dana would you like to join me at Midnight Mass?" 

The heaviness lifted from her chest at the thought. Perhaps her faith could show her the way. 

"Of course Agent Devereux I would love too." 

"Jason...call me Jason." 

* * *

**DECEMBER 21, 2000**   
**HOLY SPIRIT CEMETARY**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**

* * *

"We are here today to put to rest the mortal remains of Jason Alexander Devereux. He was a man of dignity, of compassion and he was a respected member of this community...," 

The priest's words faded as Scully swallowed back tears she was to scared to shed. Soft flakes of snow drifted past her eyes, dancing on the increasing wind, but even if it had been a summer day her soul would have been frozen. She had thought of Jason as a friend though she hadn't spoken to him since he and Megan's marriage. 

Poor Megan. 

She had been found yesterday wandering along the interstate just outside Warrenton. Now she was in Warrenton Memorial recovering from dehydration, malnutrition and God only knew what else. Burrowing her hands into her coat pockets she leaned into the warm arm that had snaked around her shoulders. Lifting her eyes she smiled up into Mulder's eyes praying he would hold off on the usual 'How are you' she hated that. 

"...and so we say our final good-byes as we return him to the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." 

Slowly, one by one, the mourners drifted past the open grave silently performing their own final good-byes. Fists of damp earth mixed with roses drifted down to settle on the glossy surface of the coffin. 

"Scully?" 

"Yes," she whispered. 

"We need to go." 

She could see the regret in his eyes as he handed her a single rose from the urn at the foot of the grave. Jason would have liked Mulder, she thought, accepting the flower. 

"Give me a moment, please...I'll meet you at the car." 

With a nod he shifted his collar up around his ears and headed back towards the car. The slope of his shoulders left her with no doubt she might have to smooth over some feelings. All he wanted was to help her through this, hell she had been the one who wanted him to come. 

Stepping up to the open grave she bowed her head in a silent prayer. I'm sorry Jason, she thought, so damned sorry about this. I swear I'll find who did this...I will. 

Opening her eyes she lifted the vivid blossom, her fingers releasing the stem. As it hit the dirt, dusting the top of the coffin, it's petals scattered. Drops of ruby against the darkness, the ruby of life. 

Of blood. 

* * *

She was one of them. 

One of the bastards who had thought to destroy him with their weak human wills. Holding their human laws up to him, demanding he follow them. 

Their laws had been what had pushed him from the church. The church had been everything to him and like Judas it had betrayed him. Just because he knew the truth. 

Mary had returned to the earth. 

Mary Magdelen and with her Jesus had returned. 

She had loved him, but her love had been hidden away. She had watched him die on Calvary and still she hid her love. This though was her chance to confess her love, but first she must remember who she was. 

He had known all those years ago that she was the one. 

The problem was she hadn't met him yet. Now Jesus had found Mary and their love would be revealed to him, to the world. His search was finally over. How could he have doubted? 

Soon Mary...soon you shall confess your sin. 

How dare you taint the son of God with you unholy love? 

* * *

**FEBRUARY 12, 1990**   
**STATE OF ILLINOIS**   
**SUPERIOR COURT**

* * *

James Ingalles sat staring across the courtroom a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Today was the arraignment hearing, the moment when the FBI threw out their tidbits to prove that he was the one. 

The Crucifix Killer was what the media had dubbed him. 

Pale watery green eyes traced her every step as she took the stand. Dana Scully could feel the bastard's eyes following her every move. Taking a deep breath she turned her right hand settling on the bible the baliff held out. 

"Do you swear to tell the truth? The whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?" 

"I do." 

"State your name for the court's record." 

"Dana Katherine Scully." 

"And your occupation Ms. Scully?" the prosecutor moved closer, heels clicking against smooth marble. 

"I am a trained pathologist, but am presently completing my training at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia." 

"Ms. Scully how did you become involved with this investigation?" 

"I was recruited by the Special Agent in Charge Jason Devereux." 

* * *

**DECEMBER 20, 2000**   
**DARK ROAD INN**   
**MIDNIGHT**

* * *

Setting up Scully swallowed back the bile that filled her throat her breathing ragged with fear. Nightmares filled with horrifying images, images from the past. 

She had been there when they had arrested James Ingellas as he tested his last victim. A young college boy...what had been his name...Patrick Cooke and his fiance Elsa Maxwell. There had been so much blood...he hadn't made it. Neither had Elsa Maxwell. 

Slipping from bed she moved to the bathroom, turning on the light with numb fingers. Filling the sink with cold water she began splashing the frigid liquid over her dream fevered skin. 

"Scully?" 

Jerking up she choked down a cry as she met Mulder's worried eyes. 

"Jesus Mulder you scared the shit out of me," grabbing the towel from the rack she began patting her face dry. 

"I'm sorry, but I heard you moving around...I thought," a flush rose in his cheeks as she scrutinized him. "I'm sorry...I'll go...I'm sorry I...," she grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave. 

"Mulder...please don't go. I should be the one apologizing." 

Curiosity shone in his dark eyes as she led him into the other room, nodding at the bed. Settling down on the twisted covers he picked at a lose string on his pajama bottoms. 

"I ask you to come with me and I still walled you out." 

"No, Scully you have every ri...," 

"I have no right to drag you half way across the country, then refuse to let you know why. You're my partner and you deserve more respect than that." 

"Scully you don't have to tell me anything." 

"Yes, I do." 

* * *

**HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**   
**JANUARY 5, 1990**

* * *

"I don't want you going in Dana. You're not an agent yet." 

Dana Scully turned back to face the man that she had grown to respect over the last few weeks. He was the last one she expected to pull this macho bullshit. 

"Dammit Jason listen to me! Between your profiler and my own observations we both know that any man that walks in there will be picked off like the proverbial fish in the barrel. He has an affinity of sorts for the women, in particular Catholic women if I can...," 

"No! I'm not budging on this," Jason's voice lowered as the agents close by leaned in. "You're my friend Dana I think you will make a wonderful agent, maybe one of the best, but goddammit if I'm letting you risk your future like this." 

"You don't have a choice about this Jason. Ingalles is in there with his last two victims...God only knows what he's done with Elsa Maxwell and I'm sure you know what he's done to Patrick Cooke. Hell Cooke may be dead already!" 

She watched as Jason paced back and forth---his hands coming up to rub at the three days growth of beard. There was only one choice in the matter, at least only one that she could see as even feasible. The question was could he do what he knew he had to do. 

* * *

**HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**   
**DECEMBER 20, 2000**

* * *

The first light of dawn tinged the eastern horizon with a rosy blush even though the remainder of the early morning sky lay blanketed with the threat of more snow. 

Holy Spirit Church. 

It hadn't really changed in ten years it had just faded a little more in its glory. Shivering she dug her hands deeper into her pockets, glancing back over her shoulder to where Mulder was standing by the car. There were nightmares she had to face, to come to terms with so she could find this bastard who had killed Jason. Turning she waved Mulder over to where she stood on the snow covered pathway. 

"So this is it? I expected something a little different," his arm moved to encircle her. 

"He brought all his victims here. Sometimes I still have nightmares about this place," another shiver tore through her body. 

"Like last night?" 

Looking up into his eyes, she allowed herself a tiny smile. 

"Yeah...like last night." 

Taking his hand she guided him up the wide stone stairs to where the wooden door hung listlessly, the dark interior calling to her. She felt his fingers tighten around hers in a gesture of comfort. 

* * *

Watery green eyes filled with loathing and disgust watched as she lead him up to the doors. 

How dare the whore step into the hallowed temple of the Lord and with his son under her thrall. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat as the two figures disappeared into the darken sanctuary. 

"You will be granted your salvation Mary, but first the tests must be administered, the son must suffer his sins as well as yours." 

With a soft laugh James Ingalles headed towards the open door. Behind him the snow remained unblemished. 

* * *

**HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**   
**DECEMBER 20, 2000**

* * *

She insisted on going first even though Mulder could see the terror in her eyes. A nightmare from a time when she hadn't known him, a nightmare she had come here to put a rest too. 

"This place must have been a beauty in it's day," he craned his neck upward studying the curve of the domed ceiling. High above them the first light of morning struggled to pierce the dirt encrusted windows, the occasional spark of colored light flickering across the debris covered floor. He was actually suprised that it wasn't in worse shape, the random crack in the plaster, one or two of the pews broken most likely by kids who were dared to enter the Crucifix Killer's lair. Maybe even the occasional vagrant seeking shelter from the icy mid-west winter. 

"Yes, it was actually," Scully turned to him with a tight swallow, "James Ingalles was the priest here before he was ex-communicated." 

"He was the priest?" 

Mulder had read the files, but he didn't recall that tidbit of information. 

"The Church was very tight lipped about the fact he was the priest. When he was caught with his final victims there was a need to protect the Church so the Arch Bishop in charge of this area came to the FBI. There was a vast amount of interference run to block certain information from the press." 

Moving up to the altar his eyes moved across the wall, taking in the faded paint of the religious murals, finally coming to rest on the crucifix that hung from the ceiling. 

Most of these he had seen would have held a Christ figure, a figure meant, in his opinion, to suck as much guilt from the faithful as possible. 

This one did not though. 

It's arms were stained though. 

Stained with what he could imagine was the blood of the victims. Swallowing hard he reached out to the foot of the crucifix, fingers tracing the splintered hole in the wood. Inside his mind he tried to imagine what it must have been like for Ingellas' victims. First tied to the crucifix, tortured in ways that made bile rise in the back of his throat, then finally being nailed to the cross just as Christ had been. 

Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere other than here. 

"Scully I'm going to go exploring okay?" 

She nodded her head without really looking up. "Mulder be careful...this place is probably a deathtrap." 

"Yes, Mom!" he flung back over his shoulder. 

She could almost see him rolling his eyes at her. She was use to it by now after this long it would have been impossible not to be. Letting her thoughts drift she never noticed the fleeting shadow that pursued her partner. Nor did she witness the shimmer of evil that skimmed across it's bottomless eyes. 

* * *

**HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**   
**ABANDONED RECTORY**

* * *

Slipping through the shadowed doorway Mulder pulled the cobwebs that had tangled in his hair free. Ten years was a long time to have nightmares about something like this. Sighing he moved into the narrow hallway squinting in the gloomy light, cursing himself for not bringing his flashlight, but then he hadn't expected to be exploring any dark crevices. 

He had read about this crime, about that sick son of bitch. In his time with the VCU and the BSU he had seen a hell of a lot of sick shit. There was always a reason, no matter the sanity or insanity depending on ones point of view. He was having a hard time thinking of Scully going through that, not the Scully he knew now, but the Scully who had walked into his office seven years ago. 

Fresh faced, she could have been the poster child for the FBI. Not a hair out of place, dressed to code and the innocence in those big wide blue eyes. Definately a poster child, but it hadn't taken her long to lose that innocence. 

Yet, another thing he could blame himself for, he thought, one foot lashing out at a box of trash in the middle of the hall. She was here to purge some of her demons apparently and he owed her that much. 

How many times had she done the same for her? 

But he couldn't even believe that a ghost had killed Jason Devereux. 

"Now there's a change...," he whispered to the empty room he had stepped into. "Fox Mulder skeptic. That has a nice ring to it don't you think?" he questioned. 

"Yes... it does." 

Before he could turn, before he could pull his gun he was slammed to the floor. Stupid, stupid, stupid his brain screamed at him. How could you let your guard down? Because there is no such things as ghosts, his new found skepticism answered. 

Strong hands flipped him over before he could catch a breath, a damp rag pressing against his nose and mouth. His vision swam out of focus, then back in just long enough for him to see who his assailant was...who it couldn't be. Watery green eyes met his own and the knowledge that this was really happening finally took hold with icy fingers. 

"That's it son breath deep...let this world go." 

He fought for the strength to escape, but James Ingalles was having none of it. Shadows crept into the corner of his vision as the chloroform took it's toll. 

"That's it...when you wake Mary will be waiting." 

* * *

"Mulder! MULDER!!" Scully let out a bellow that would have done her Navy father proud. 

She was starting to get nervous...really nervous. Glancing down at her watch she realized she had good reason to be, Mulder had wandered off almost an hour and a half ago. Damn you, she thought, as she stepped through the rectory door how could he do this to her? 

Wasn't it bad enough that she had watched Jason buried yesterda? 

Knowing Mulder he had probably fallen through a rotted floor and was laying in a dark hole with a broken leg. 

Sighing she stepped to her left into what had probably been the resident priest's study. Empty bookshelves lined the wall to her left coated with a thick layer of dust, just as the floor did. Looking down she could make out Mulder's footprints in the dust. With an arch of her brow she moved slowly scanning the floor. 

Odd she couldn't see any prints leading out, but the ones leading in were clear. 

"Mulder?" her voice came out in a tight whisper as her eyes spotted the watch, his watch. 

The floor had been almost wiped clean of dust and sitting in the middle of the dust free section was Mulder's watch. Suddenly she knew there was something worse going on than Mulder's clumsiness. Her hand slid beneath her jacket, fingers popping the snap on her shoulder holster. 

"Mulder? Are you here Mulder?" Curling her fingers around the butt of her Sig, she pulled it from her holster, standing and turning in one fluid motion. 

Nothing. 

She could have sworn there had been someone behind her. 

Lowering down into a squat she picked up the watch, her eyes flickering down to note the band was torn, the heavy nylon shredded. 

Her eyes darted back up, her breaths coming quicker as she stood. 

She had to get some help out here and fast. 

Taking off at a dead run she broke out into the bright sunlight, heading for the car. Something was definately wrong here, something bad. 

With trembling fingers she managed to unlock the car, slipping behind the steering wheel. A few seconds later she was dialing 911. 

"911 What is your emergency?" 

"This is Federal Agent Dana Scully, badge number 2317-616 I need backup at Holy Spirit Church at 22364 Parrish Road. I have a possible officer down." 

"Relax Agent Scully police have been dispatched. Have shots been fired?" 

"No," her heart was pounding as she scanned the wide expanse of lawn in front of the church. 

"Are you physically okay Agent Scully?" 

"Yes, I have no injuries." 

"Is there anyone else I need to contact for you?" 

"Yes, I need to contact my superior. I'm based in Washington, DC. You can contact Assistant Director Walter Skinner through the Chicago FBI Field office." 

"I'm making contact with the field office, the police should be there in ten minutes just sit tight." 

"Thank you ma'am." 

She sat the phone down her body stiffening at the faint sickly sweet odor that wafted beneath her nose. Shit, that smell, she knew that smell what the hell was it? 

Two seconds before she realized what it was the cloth was across her mouth and nose. Struggling she tried to turn in the seat, her gun slipping from her fingers, clattering to the floorboard. 

"Mary...Mary...relax child I'm only taking you to the son." 

She knew that voice, but Mulder had told her it wasn't possible. He told her that the execution had taken place, that the bastard was dead. 

"Shhh...hush Mary...soon. Soon you shall be reunited." 

Her vision began to fade as the sweetness filled her lungs. 

* * *

**FEBRUARY 15, 1990**   
**ILLINOIS STATE**   
**SUPERIOR COURT**

* * *

"Please stand for the honorable Judge Robert Erickson." 

A dead silence rolled over the courtroom as Judge Ericksen entered the court, the only sound the swish of his robes. Seconds ticked by as he settled behind the high wooden desk, then cleared his throat. 

"I have carefully considered the evidence layed before me by the prosecution as well as the request from the Archdiocese. I believe that enough evidence does exist to bring these horrifying crimes to trial." 

A sigh of relief rose from the gathered officers, agents and lawyers at the judges words. They had feared because of Ericksen's close ties to the church, his brother was a priest as his father had been, that the Church would win out on their requests. 

"I do though, with regret insist that this trial be held in a closed court with no press involved..." 

"With all due respect sir I think that is a mistake." Jason trembled with repressed anger as Dana reached out to draw him back into his seat. 

"SAC Devereux I respect your opinion, but my decision is final." 

"Yes...your honor," he gritted out between clenched teeth. 

"I have set the date for the trial as March fifteenth. As for the request for bail on the defendant's part I deny it. Despite his supposed 'good' citizen record I can not in any good sense allow such a high flight risk loose on the good citizens of the city. Dismissed." 

As the gavel connected with the wood Jason stood moving from the courtroom with a determined pace. Dana followed close behind her heels clicking against the marble floor of the hall. 

"Jason! Jason dammit stop!" 

He did just that spinning on her his face flushed with anger. "What?!" 

"Please Jason lower your voice," she hissed softly. "We walked out of there with more than we had hoped for...," 

"Bullshit Dana! The bastard is going to walk! You know it and I know it. Ericksen was assigned because of his connections. Do you think for a moment that the Church could allow the press to get their teeth into this?" 

Reaching out she pulled his shaking body into her arms. "He will pay Jason...I promise you," her lips brushed against his in a soft whisper. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
 **DECEMBER 20, 2000**  
1:00 PM

* * *

Groaning Mulder blinked his eyes trying to adjust to the dim greyness of his prison. The last thing he remebered was the look in those all to familiar green eyes. 

James Ingalles. 

But he had been executed. 

Pulling up from the damp floor Mulder shivered at the thought of a killer ghost, not that he hadn't faced one before. Rubbing his palms along his biceps the room came into focus just as he realized that he was naked except for his thin cotten boxers. 

"..shit...," he hissed through clenched teeth, as he stumbled to his feet. 

The soft rattle of a chain made him focus on his feet. Iron manacles encircled his ankles connected by a thick chain, effectively hobbling him. Whoever his kidnapper the man was smart. There was no way he could fight anyone off with his ankles chained so closely together. 

With a groan he sank back to the floor. 

"..mul..der..." 

Shaking his head he glanced around the room until his eyes settled on what appeared to be a small opening in the wall just four feet from where he sat. 

"Scully?" he crawled across the floor coming just close enough for his fingers to brush the lip of the opening. 

"Oh, thank God," came the answering whisper. "Are you okay?" 

"If you call being naked and chained okay I suppose so." 

Soft laughter drifted through the dark opening. "Don't you know it. Finally I have you alone and naked, but there's a damn wall in the way." 

Mulder's eyes widened at her words. Innuendo wasn't Scully's cup of tea usually, but hey he wasn't complaining. It worried him though. 

"You got a spoon Scully? You could always dig your way to me." 

Another burst of laughter drifted to him on the dank air. 

"It was Ingalles," she whispered. 

"Scully I know what you saw...I saw the same thing, but it can't be true. I checked with the prison before we flew into Chicago. He was executed, there were twenty people who witnessed it." 

Silence greeted his words. 

"Scully? Dana?" 

"Do you know when your scared...really scared for me you always use my first name." 

A bitter smile twisted his lips. He had never really thought about it until now, but she was right. The first time he recalled doing it was early in their partnership when her father had passed away. He remembered how casual she had been strolling into the basement the day of his funeral, as if nothing had been wrong. 

"I am scared," he whispered back. 

"Mulder...he...did you read the file?" 

"Yes I did," another shiver rippled through him. 

"He came back to fullfill a promise." 

"Scully...please don't." 

"He told me after the sentencing what he knew. I was a foolish kid Mulder...I blew his declaration off like so much crap. He knew killing Jason would bring me back here." 

"It's not him Scully." 

"Dammit Mulder listen to me! He knew this would happen." 

* * *

**APRIL 20, 1990**   
**ILLINOIS STATE**   
**SUPERIOR COURT**

* * *

"We the jury in the case of the State of Illinois vs Ingalles find the defendent James William Ingalles guilty on eight counts of murder in the first degree." 

Dana squeezed Jason's hand as the verdict was announced. 

"Guilty on eight counts of kidnapping, four counts of forcible rape..." 

Their voices faded as Jason buried his face in the soft curtain of her hair. She knew how important this case had been to him, but not how important until halfway through the trial. One of the first victims had been his high school sweetheart. How that had managed to stay a secret was beyond her, but it had and now the bastard was going to pay. 

"Come on Jason...let's go," she whispered in his ear. 

Nodding he had sat up, swiping at the tears that stained his face. 

* * *

An hour later they were back at the Marriott on Lakeshore Drive overlooking Lake Michigan. Dana stood staring out at the calm sweep of blue waters reminded of the sea where her father was now, on another tour. 

His hands slid around her waist, his chin resting on the top of her head. Silence filled the room, the faint saltiness of the early spring air caressing her skin. 

"Jason...I don't think we...," she turned in his arms as he leaned in their lips meeting. He wanted this and if she were honest with herself she wanted it too. 

Melting into his body she sighed as he lifted her in his arms. With a few quick steps he was kneeling on the bed, reaching for the tiny pearl buttons on her blouse, fumbling to release her breasts from the prison of soft cotton. 

She had promised herself it wouldn't happen again. 

"...jason...," she whispered as his lips encircled one tight nipple. 

Her breath quickened as he pushed up her skirt, his fingers tugging down her cotton panties, slipping into her moist folds. 

"I love you Dana," he whispered against her breast. 

Then his fingers were plunging into her, stroking until her back arched against the erotic assault. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**   
**DECEMBER 20, 2000**

* * *

"You were in love with him." 

Mulder felt a tight pain in his chest. He had no reason to be jealous, he thought. 

"No...I wasn't. He was in love with me and I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't." 

"Of course you weren't my dear. A whore is incapable of true love." 

Mulder was on his feet at the sound of the harsh words. 

Scully screamed in terror beyond the wall sending Mulder over the edge. 

"You bastard! Let her go!" 

He clawed at the wall, screaming until his throat was raw, his lungs burning. 

"No, don't please! PLEASE!" Her screams were suddenly cut off leaving Mulder's ears ringing with their echo. 

"Noooo! You son of bitch! Leave her alone!" He fell to his knees, tears streaking his face, his nails torn and bloody from his desperate attempts to get to her. 

"...please..oh...god please," he whimpered, the darkness closing in. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
9:35 PM

* * *

Even this late at night the lobby of Warrenton's finest was active for a small college town. Through the mass of beat cops, visiting agents and various felons Walter Skinner moved with a quick confident stride causing those around him to pause in curiosity. Pausing at the Sergeant's desk he flashed his badge with an ease that had come with more years than he even cared to admit. 

"Assistant Director Walter Skinner, Washington Bureau. I'm looking for ASAC Jamie Perez." 

Without pause the sergeant, a round graying man, lifted his hand pointing down a side hall. "Room 112. Last door on your right at the end of the hall." 

Before the man had finished Skinner was half way down the hallway, his mind working over the conversation he had with the Chicago Assistant Director only eight hours before. 

_What happened?_

*Right now the details are sketchy. A woman identifying herself as Agent Dana Katherine Scully via her badge number called the Warrenton local emergency number. She informed the operator of her location 22364 Parish Road, a Holy Spirit Church. She then told the operator that there was a possible agent down, but she herself was okay.* 

_Was she?_

*That's the problem Mr. Skinner. When officers answered the call there was no sign of her or the other agent in question. Only their rental car and her Sig were recovered outside the abandoned church.* 

Skinner glanced up as he stopped outside 112. Beyond the frosted glass he could hear the murmur of voices, both male and female. Taking a deep breath he turned the knob, stepping into the hub of activity. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
11:35 PM

* * *

Lost in the memory of his partner's screams Mulder lay shivering on the damp earthen floor wishing for death. 

Within his heart he knew without a doubt he couldn't live without her if she had been taken from this world. 

"She still lives my son...though she does not deserve your devotion. It amazes me that a whore instills such faith, especially in you." 

Rolling over he looked into what he knew couldn't be real. James Ingalles, dead for these last two years, put to death for his crimes. 

"Oh, I am very real my son." 

"I'm not your son!" Mulder spit out. 

"But you are mine as well as the world's. It was foretold over a thousand years ago that you would return to us." 

Ingalles knelt in the damp earth, his pale green eyes taking in every inch of Mulder's quivering body. Bile rose in Mulder's throat as he felt their caress, leaving him with a feeling of violation. 

"Do you know that they thought they could end my search by feeding me their mortal justice? Just as you sit here in the darkness so did I, trapped in between worlds until he came to me." 

A shudder tore through Mulder as he ask. "Who?" 

"Why the father," a look of shock passed over those pale eyes. "Who else would come to me?" 

Shifting into a sitting position he motioned for Mulder to sit as well. From his belt he pulled a small drawstring bag and removed a packet of powder. 

"He told me that I was to return...resurrected in spirit so I could do what I was destined to do." He removed a small brass bowl, emptying the packet of powder into it. "He spoke to me of the trials of his son and how I was to be the one to bring his son to his destiny as well." 

Drawing a packet of matches from the pouch he lit one, then placed it's flame to the powder. Slowly the powder began to smoke, it's sweet, cloying scent filling Mulder's lungs. 

"What is that?" Mulder choked out as Ingalles stood. 

"Frankincense and myrrh. It is a purifying agent, it's medicinal properties will prepare you for the trials to come my son." 

As the smoke filled the room Mulder began to cough, his lungs burning with the sickeningly sweet smoke. A sharp prick brought him back from a painful coughing fit as he realized Ingalles had slid a needle beneath his skin. 

"Wha...aa...tt?" 

"Just something to make you a little more cooperative." 

Coughs racked his body as the drug began to flow through his body. Once more the darkness began to seep into his vision. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**   
**WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**   
**MIDNIGHT**

* * *

Skinner sat sleeves rolled to his elbows shifting through the preliminary report on the disappearance of Scully and Mulder. Reaching out he lifted the styrofoam cup of what passed for coffee in this town. He rolled the bitter concoction over his tongue as he shuffled through the crime scene photos. 

Exterior of Holy Spirit Church. 

Rental car parked on the street, no sign of a struggle, cell phone laying neatly in the passenger side seat alongside Scully's Sig Sauer. The gun had not been fired. There were no fingerprints apparent other than those of Scully, Mulder and two others that had been identified as belonging to employees of the Avis rental agency at Chicago's O'Hare Airport. 

Two sets of tracks in the snow leading up to the front door of the church. The same two sets of tracks led into the main sanctuary, then into what had been the rectory. 

The officers who had answered the call followed those prints into what had once been the main study of the church's priest. A large area had been swept clean in the center of the room, speaking of a struggle, though only two sets of prints entered the room and one exited. 

A watch, which Skinner himself had identified as Mulder's, had been placed in the center of the clean area. 

A taunt, he thought. 

"AD Skinner?" 

He glanced up at the sound of the man's voice. 

"Yes." 

"ASAC Jamie Perez out of Chicago. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived. I was at the library pulling some research on the church." 

As he settled at the table he reached into a soft attache case, removing a stack of folders. Skinner studied the face of the man in front of him. He didn't look much older than thirty, but Skinner was aware he was forty. 

"So what did you find Agent Perez?" 

"I have a bad feeling that this is connected to..." 

"James Ingalles?" Skinner smiled at the shock in the other man's dark eyes. "I know that my agents were down here for the funeral of Jason Devereux. He was the agent in charge of the Crucifix Killer case back in '89 and '90. You worked under him if I'm not mistaken." 

"Yes, I did," Jamie cleared his throat. "I was at the funeral and spoke to Agent Scully. She wasn't even a full fledged agent when I worked with her in '89. Jason brought her in at the suggestion of...," 

"Jack Willis. She didn't know that though did she?" 

Jamie shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of his wide mouth. "I was told you were good, but damn." 

Skinner leaned back crossing his ankles, arms folded behind his head. "So how did Jason Devereux die?" 

"You've got the folder," Jamie's brow rose, "...you tell me." 

"Same as all the male victims of James Ingalles, but we know it's not Ingalles, he was put to death in the gas chamber two years ago. So that leaves us with the only other feasible explanation." 

"And that is?" 

"That Ingalles had a partner in those murders." 

"Impossible!" Exclaimed Perez standing and removing his coat. "All the evidence pointed to Ingalles, as a matter of fact Dana Scully was the one who discovered the one damning piece of evidence. She discovered the pubic hair that turned out to be Ingalles' on the third female victim." 

"Then all the evidence wasn't found." 

"Look AD Skinner no insult intended, but in '89 we had the best people in the law enforcement working on this case. The second male victim was the nephew of a very powerful businessman, Albert Brach." 

Skinner nodded. 

Albert Brach owned a headhunter company. He had placed more than three thousand executives throughout the country. 

"Listen Perez I would like to see Megan Devereux." 

"Megan? I have to let you know that she's still catatonic. I doubt if she's even aware that Jason is dead. I'm not sure if that's the best idea." 

Skinner drew in a deep breath through his nose. Here was the moment he knew would yank Perez's chain. "It doesn't really matter what you think Agent Perez. As of the moment I stepped into this office I became the agent in charge of this investigation." 

Perez turned on heel slamming the door behind him without a word. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
3:00 AM

* * *

Shivering Scully tried to rub the gumminess from her eyes only to discover her hands were bound above her head. 

Quickly it came back to her. 

Talking to Mulder through her prison wall, wanting to confess to him, yet another mistake. Ingalles had appeared in front of her through a door she hadn't noticed before. 

Just the sight of him sent her spiraling into a moment of insanity. She hadn't been able to stop the screams that had exploded from her throat as he approached her. A memory of what he had done to the other women. 

Rape with a foreign object. 

He had raped all of them and now she was next. 

Hysteria gripped her as she realized she was completely naked, her legs spread wide, her ankles bound loosely to iron rings in the floor. 

"Ahhhh...Mary you're awake. Wonderful." 

Yanking at the chains that held her down she met his watery eyes. "You son of a bitch! Bastard!" She let lose with a string of profanity, thrashing against her bounds. 

"So the whore finally shows her true colors," Ingalles knelt next to her, one hand reaching out to squeeze her breast. "You will enjoy what I have planned for you my daughter. Such beauty wasted on a whore, but then the devil does know how to seduce." With a quick pinch of her nipple he stood and moved to a table across the room. 

"You mother fucker don't you dare touch me!" 

A chuckle rose from her captor as he went about pouring powdered incense in brass bowl. Lighting the incense he carried it to where her hands were bound, then placed it on the ground. Standing he moved back to the table retrieving a object that Scully recognized through terror filled eyes. 

A wooden crucifix. 

"NO! God damn you NO!" She screamed as he knelt between her wide spread thighs. 

The sickening sweet smoke of the incense filled her lungs as she screamed her denial out in a wave of profanity. Somewhere beyond her own screams she could hear Ingalles softly whispering. 

"Our father who art in heaven..." 

His hands stroked from her waist down the curve of her hips. 

"...hallowed be thy name..." 

She tried to twist away as his hand settled over the mound of her pubic bone. 

"...thy kingdom come..." 

This wasn't happening, she thought, as the hard polished tip of the crucifix found it's mark. 

"...thy will be done..." 

The pain was worse than anything she had ever felt in her life as she was impaled. Her back arched against the fire between her thighs, her throat closing around her screams. 

* * *

**ST. JAMES' HOSPITAL**  
 **ROOM 203**  
 **DECEMBER 21, 2000**  
9:15 AM

* * *

"Poor thing hasn't spoke a word since she was brought in day before yesterday. Whoever did this to her is one sick bastard." 

Skinner let the words of the on duty RN drift over him as he studied Megan Devereux through the window of the ICU. Her skin was a mottled mass of bruises from the top of her head, to the souls of her feet. The ER doctor had suggested that a flat strip of wood had been used to beat her. There wasn't an inch of her skin untouched by the bastard's hand. 

His eyes moved over the report he held clenched between his shaking hands. Just the horror of it was enough to make him want to slam his fist through the wall. She had been raped multiple times with a foreign object, samples taken at her admission had shown traces of wood and varnish in her vagina. 

"...son of a bitch...," he hissed through clenched teeth. 

Closing his eyes he leaned against the cool glass of the window trying not to think of Scully. No matter what he tried though the words he had read haunted the back of his eyelids. 

Victim struggled during assault. 

Traces of iron in cuts around wrists and ankles. 

Multiple lacerations. Splinters of what appear to be hawthorn wood in various lacerations along the abdomen. Bruising of vaginal tissue. 

"Nooooo!" 

The scream tore Skinner from his disturbed thoughts. On the other side of the window two nurses were holding down Megan as a third strapped her arms down. Moving around the corner, he found himself at the foot of her bed, his eyes meeting hers. 

Shimmering violet pools. 

"Sir? Sir please you shouldn't be here." 

She wants to tell me something, he thought, as her cries died down. Her chapped lips continued to move as if the words refused to come. Slowly he moved to her side. 

"Sir, please I must protest this." 

Her bandaged hand shot out, fingers curling convulsively around his wrist. Leaning in he focused on the faint whisper. 

"...holy..." 

"What is it Megan? What can't you tell me?" His voice softened as her eyes filled with tears. "You're safe here...," he whispered. 

"...beneee..eeth...a..all..." 

"It's okay. Take your time." Skinner saw the fear in her eyes, the anger. 

"...alll...tha..at...hol...eee..." 

"What did she say?" The nurse ask as Megan fell back against the pillows. 

"Beneath all that's holy." 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
 **DECEMBER 21, 2000**  
10:00 AM

* * *

_Fox_

Shaking his head Mulder tried to wake from his dark nightmare. He was lost, frozen both body and spirit. 

_Fox wake up! Fox!_

"Ummm...tryin' ta sleep Sam..." 

_Wake up Fox! She needs you Fox!_

Shaking he opened his eyes not to the darkness he was sure he would find, but to a soft glow of candlelight. The sickening sweet scent of Frankincense and Myrrh still lingered in the dank air, a ghost of fear. 

Beneath him he could feel rough wood against his bare back and shoulders. Prickles of sharpness that sent jolts of discomfort with the slightest movement. 

The cross. 

He was bound to a cross. 

A soft whimper from nearby forced him to turn his head, the muscles in his neck shrieking. At first he didn't see anything, then his eyes began to adjust to the shadows. 

"...oh, god...scully," he felt bile rising in his throat. 

She sat on her haunches, her wrists chained to an iron ring in the floor, her nude body shivering. Even from here he could see the blood staining her wrists and ankles. What had that bastard done, he thought. 

"Scully? Scully it's me...it's Mulder." 

Shifting her weight, she peered through the veil of her tangled hair, her eyes wide and wet. 

"Mu...mul...mulder?" Her voice was low and raspy. 

Mulder bit down on his lip fighting the tears that pressed against the back of his eyes. "Yeah...it's me Scully." 

"Mulder...," his name was almost a sigh. "I thought he had...he had killed you." Scully tried to push the hair from her face as she shifted again. 

This time he caught a glimpse of bruised flesh at the curve of her hip, another on the pale flesh of her breast. 

"Scully what did he do?" His words came out in a raspy breath as he tugged against the bindings at his wrists. "What did he do?!" 

Scully shook her head at the desperate sound of Mulder's words. "Nothing Mulder...I...I'm fine...," her last word faded to a whisper. 

"You son of a bitch! You fucking bastard!!" 

"Hush son." 

Mulder turned tear filled eyes to the voice he had learned to hate over the last twenty-four hours. The bastard was so calm, so sure of himself as if nothing could touch him. 

"It will be okay. You do know that don't you my son?" Ingalles studied him with a sorrowful expression. 

"Bastard!" Mulder spit at the mad man, his eyes now filled with fire. "Why are you doing this? How did you get out of that prison?!" 

"I didn't. Haven't you figured that out by now?" 

Scully looked up at Ingalles from beneath her hair, her expression matching it's fiery color. 

"You knew you son of a bitch! You knew I would come back if you killed Jason!" 

Ingalles turned towards her his eyes glowing with a confident madness. "Of course I did Mary." 

* * *

**MARRIOTT HOTEL**   
**CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**   
**APRIL 20, 1990**

* * *

Laying on her back Scully studied the pale cream ceiling tiles as Jason lay sleeping next to her. She had no idea what she was going to say to Jason. 

Turning her head she smiled softly at his sleeping visage, so innocent in that restful place of dreams. 

He had been through so much, just as she had. How could she hurt him like this, she thought. The way he touched her was proof enough that he was falling in love with her, but there was no way she could allow this. 

Rolling over she disentangled her bare legs from the tangled sheets, her eyes drifting back to the long lean line of Jason's back. With trembling fingers she reached for her bag pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Nervously she rolled the pack between her fingers, then ripped it open with a faint sigh. She hadn't had a cigarette since her residency, then she had seen the crime scene photos. 

It had went down hill from that point. 

The sharp ring of the bedside phone brought her back to the present as she lit the cigarette. 

"Dana...," Jason rolled over, blinking his eyes. 

"Shhh...I'll get it Jason." 

Lifting the handset she smiled over at him as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. 

"Scully." 

"Does he know?" 

She froze at the sound of Ingalles voice, the sudden need for nicotine rising. 

"I ask you if he knows." 

"What?" 

"That you my lovely girl are nothing, but a common whore." 

"How the hell did you get this number?" She hissed, her fingers tightening around the cold plastic. 

"Does it really matter? All that matters is that I know." 

"Who is it Dana?" Jason's hand caressed her shoulder. 

"Give me a second alone Jason." 

"But Dana...what is it?" He paled as she pulled back from his touch. 

"Jason...please...just a few minutes." Scully laid the phone down, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. "It's okay Jason...I just need some privacy." 

Nodding he gathered the sheet around his waist, then headed for the bathroom. As soon as the door shut she grabbed Jason's discarded shirt pulling it over her shivering body. Eyes fixed on the phone she lifted it to her ear. 

"Ingalles?" 

"Yes?" 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" 

"Why using the one phone call I'm allowed before I enter the hell you saw fit to put me in." 

"No. No, you did this to yourself. You killed those people I didn't," her heart was pounding against the cage of her ribs. "You reap what you sow...isn't that right?" 

"Yes, Mary you do." 

Then the line went dead. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
12:05 PM

* * *

Skinner pulled his glasses off, thumb and forefinger rubbing the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. No matter how much he threw himself into the evidence he couldn't erase the look in Megan Devereux's eyes. He had witnessed to many versions of that look over the years. 

Sheer terror. 

"What were you trying to tell me Megan? Where is that bastard." 

"Sir?" 

He smiled at the young woman standing in front of him, her arms loaded with files. Eliza Sheffield still had the fresh face of a recent graduate of Quantico. 

"Agent Sheffield what did you find out." 

Clearing her throat she sat her load on the table, then settled into the chair across from Skinner. 

"There are approximately five to six hundred locations in the upper state of Illinois that include the word 'holy'. Of those one to two hundred are within a reasonable distance of Warrenton." 

"What about the other people involved in the Ingalles case?" 

Eliza leaned forward extracting a thick file folder from the stack. 

"Of the original team only Jamie Perez, Justin Farmer, Theresa Duvall, then of course Megan Devereux and Dana Scully are still alive." Her soft grey eyes drifted to his face. "I understand that Dana is one of your agents sir." 

"She is and a damn good one as well as her partner. Can you tell me where Farmer and Duvall are?" 

"Farmer retired from the Warrenton police shortly after the close of the Ingalles case. He and his family moved to San Francisco where he teaches Ethics in Law at Berkeley. Duvall is now the Assistant to the Head Medical Examiner for the City of Denver in Colorado." 

Skinner took in the information, digesting it slowly as he stood pacing the length of the small room. 

"What about the others? The ones who have died." 

"That's what is so strange sir. They have all died within the last two years." 

"Two years? Ingalles was executed two years ago." 

"Lyssa McGowan, the public defender assigned to Ingalles was shot during a failed carjacking. Brad Andrews, the arresting officer was found in his bathtub, an apparent suicide. Charles Richardson the lead medical examiner died in a skiing accident during a trip in the Swiss Alps." 

"What about the judge?" Skinner paused to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

"Erickson? He was killed in a botched bank robbery just..." 

"Six months ago?" 

Eliza scanned the page in her hand. "How did you know that?" 

"Two a year for the past two years. Ingalles' partner was cleaning house." 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
12:15 PM

* * *

Ingalles had left almost two hours before. His exit had left a huge vacuum of silence in the candlelit darkness. 

Somehow Scully knew that she had to get Ingalles to release Mulder. She was the one he wanted, she always had been since that moment in the hotel room ten years ago in Chicago. Perhaps she should have told Jason what had happened, but she never had. Now he was dead, his wife a babbling mess and her...well she was where he had wanted her along with her partner. 

Gnawing at her nails, she contemplated the situation. If only she had been strong enough to do this on her own, then Mulder would have been safe in DC. 

"He raped you." 

Glancing up through her tangled hair she met Mulder's gaze, her breath catching at the guilt swimming there in the dark depths. 

"Mulder...," she paused swallowing hard, "...it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself." 

He turned away, but not before she saw the glaze of tears unshed. 

"I...I'm your partner. I'm suppose to watch your back." 

"God dammit Mulder! Enough with the guilt riddled bullshit. This has nothing to do with you, sometimes the past comes back to haunt even the best of us." 

"She is right my son. Even the blackest tongue might speak the truth on occasion." 

Ingalles stood watching them from the wavering shadows. Slowly he moved into the light Scully's eyes catching the glint of the hammer in his hand. 

"Don't...James don't do this to him. It's me you've wanted...always me." She yanked at the chains in a fury. "He is an innocent." 

"Of course he is dear. Our saviour is and always shall be an innocent. His pain brings our release from our sins." 

Mulder's eyes grew wide as Ingalles lifted a pouch from his belt emptying the contents on the table next to the cross. Iron nails, crudely fashioned, but razor sharp. Panic sat in as the man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, slowly folding it neatly. 

Shaking his head he began to howl, his voice being overcast by Scully's screams. Ingalles leaned over forcing the folded material between his lips, lifting his head to tug it tightly, muffling his screams. 

"Bastard! Let him go! Don't! Don't!" Now the metal was shredding her wrists as she fought like a caged tiger. 

"One of the seven angels who had the seven bowls came and said to me, 'Come, I will show you the punishment of the great prostitute, who sits on many waters..." 

He lifted one of the iron nails caressing it as if it were the flesh of a lover, his eyes glittering. 

"...With her the kings of the earth committed adultery and the inhabitants of the earth were intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries." 

Lowering the point to Mulder's left wrist he then lifted the hammer. 

"Then the angel carried me away in the Spirit into a desert. There I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that was covered with blasphemous names and had seven heads and ten horns." 

The hammer came down in a quick motion sending the nail through Mulder's wrist, blood spraying across Ingalles' face in a fine spray. His smile widened as Mulder's back bowed in pain, his muffled screams echoing through the room. 

Scully howled in pain as if it were her own wrist that was pined to the rough wood. Tears blurred her vision as he moved around Mulder's writhing body another nail clenched between his long pale fingers. 

"The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet...," he paused to gaze at Scully's pale face encircled by her tangled scarlet hair, the pale blossom of purpled bruises against her skin. 

The second nail found it's mark. 

Mulder's eyes glazed over in shock as he met Scully's tear filled gaze. His own tears glittering in the pale golden light, the scent of fresh blood filling his nose. 

"Mystery...Babylon the great...the mother of all prostitutes...and of the abominations of the earth," Ingalles intoned as he walked to where Mulder's ankles were bound. Foot over foot. 

The third nail tore through flesh, muscle and bone with a sicking wet crunch. 

Darkness claimed her moments after it had claimed Mulder. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
1:35 PM

* * *

"AD Skinner!" 

Perez came roaring through the mass of bodies, a plastic evidence bag clutched in his hand, his coat flapping around his ankles. 

"Yes, Agent Perez," he stood from the table meeting the man halfway. 

"Father O'Reily at the Holy Revelation Church found this in his mail this morning. I thought you needed to see it immediately." 

Skinner moved back to the table pulling out a fresh pair of latex gloves. Pulling the envelope from the baggie he turned it over in unsteady hands. Standard legal size, unsealed, his name neatly printed in block letters. Opening the envelope he pulled free a folded sheet of creamy parchment. 

"What is it, sir?" Sheffield moved closer, her pale grey eyes taking in everything. 

Shaking his head he gently unfolded the parchment. Attached to the paper was two large pieces of hair, one red, one chestnut brown. Skinner felt his throat close as he began to read the letters neatly written with what he assumed was a calligraphy pen. 

"Come out of her, my people,  
so that you will not share in her sins, so that you will not receive any of her plagues; for her sins are piled up to heaven, and God has remembered her crimes." 

"Revelations 4:18 and 5:18." 

Skinner caught Sheffield's gaze across the table with a questioning look. 

"Catholic school , sir. Chapter 18 is the fall of Babylon in Revelations." 

"The hair does it belong to them?" Perez looked down at the strands. 

"Yes," whispered Skinner, "...it is." 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
6:45 PM

* * *

She woke to the feel of cool porcelain, her body shivering due to what she thought was a dream at first. Slowly the memories came back, the pain that infused her body with the simple knowledge that she hadn't been able to save her partner. 

Rolling over she vomited. 

There was little in her stomach other than bile, but she continued to heave until her ribs ached and her throat burned. Blinking back tears she managed to struggle into a sitting position the chains that held her wrists and ankles clattering against the tile floor. 

The room she sat in was small, almost hospital clean in it's brightness. A tub filled with steaming water sat across the room on clawed feet, a testament to the fact her captor had not been gone long. Next to it sat a small card table a lone box sitting in it's center. The only other item was a toilet along the wall on which she leaned. 

Breath Dana, breath, she thought. There has got to be away out of here, out of this nightmare. 

Pulling herself to her feet she stumbled to the toilet relieving herself as quickly as possible, praying the bastard wasn't that big of a pervert. Her eyes drifted to the box that seemed to taunt her with it's presence. 

Play his game, she thought. What did she have to lose at this point? Nothing really, she concluded and if it got her to Mulder so be it. 

"God please let him be alive...please," she whispered. 

Shuffling across the room she reached the table, her hands shaking as she reached for the box. For what seemed an eternity she stared at it almost to terrified to discover it's contents. Finally she took in a sharp breath, tugging at it's lid until it fell open, it's contents spilling out over the table. 

A robe. 

A simple robe of the deepest purple she had ever seen, almost black. There was also what appeared to be a shawl of sheer white muslin, a bar of soap, a wash cloth and a towel. 

Setting aside each item she came to the bottom of the box and the final item. A sheet of parchment folded neatly and sealed with a wax stamp. 

With one finger she broke the seal, then unfolded the sheet, her eyes studying the refined strokes of the pen. 

'For the wedding of the Lamb has come,  
and his bride has made herself ready.  
Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.' 

Dropping the note her fingers returned to the robe, caressing the fabric, noting the seams. Lifting it she turned it right side out realizing the purple, the color of the whore, was the lining the outside was a brilliant white to match the shawl. 

One more deep breath and she closed her eyes, then grabbed the soap. 

"Play his game Dana," she whispered, stepping into the tub. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
8:00 PM

* * *

Skinner stood staring out into the darkness, his head throbbing. He had sent the hair to the forensic lab in Chicago, but he really didn't need the verification. He had no doubt that it belonged to Mulder and Scully. 

The past six hours he had spent reading over the book of Revelation trying to get some clue, any clue to who this bastard was and what he wanted. Knowing weirdness followed Mulder like a shadow he had even pulled a few favors and somewhere outside Warrenton they were exhuming James Ingalles' grave. 

"Sir?" 

"Yes, Sheffield?" 

"Would you like some coffee?" 

Turning he forced a weak smile to his lips at the worried expression on the young agent's face. 

"Of course." 

Moving back to the table he began to page through the bible that sat open. There had to be something here he was just missing it. If only Mulder were here all these odd pieces would fit. 

Just as he were ready to give up his eye caught a line of text. Within chapter three...the messages to the final three churches. 

To the Church in Philadelphia. 

'These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can...' 

"...open," Skinner spoke out loud. 

"What is it, sir?" Sheffield handed him his coffee. 

"Where was Ingalles from?" 

"Philadelphia I believe. Why?" Her brow crinkled as she sipped at her lukewarm coffee. 

"Was he a priest there?" 

Shuffling through her notes she ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Yes...yes he was. He was originally located in a parish in a suburb of Philadelphia." 

"What year?" Skinner was skimming over the verses now, his heart pounding. He was close, so fucking close he could taste it. 

"January of 1957 until February of 1960. He was fresh out of the seminary. He was suddenly transferred to a parish in California without any explanation." 

"Dammit!" Skinner slammed his fist into the table, coffee splashing across the scarred wood. "Something happen in Philadelphia in 1960. I need you to contact the church officials there. I don't care how, but I want that information." 

"Yes, sir!" Sheffield was on the phone immediately. 

"I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut," Skinner read out loud, his breath catching in his throat. "I know you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name." 

Why hadn't he seen it before? 

"Sheffield!" 

He knew he had terrified the poor woman enough, but he couldn't help it. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"I think we're looking for a woman, a young girl who became pregnant around the time Ingalles was transferred to California." He sighed as those words passed his lips. 

God be with them, he thought. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
8:15 PM

* * *

Pain. 

His world was pain, fire and brimstone. 

Mulder tried to open his eyes, but they felt so heavy. Like lead weights shuttering his senses from what awaited him beyond the darkness. 

"Awake my son. Open your eyes and see the truth." 

A shudder rippled through his body as he fought to open his eyes, his breath rattling in his chest. 

Ingalles stood mere inches from him, looking down with such sorrow in his watery eyes. "I fear for you my son. If only you could see the error of your ways." 

"...sc..scullee," he moaned, licking his cracked lips. 

"Mary is preparing for her penitence." 

"Bastard...you...hurt her." He tried to turn his head, but dark spots danced along the edge of his vision. Fire ripped through his arms as he blinked back tears. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes settled on his outstretched arm, blood thick and clotted around the spike that held him fast to the cross. 

A memory tore through the veil of fire that engulfed his body. Ingalles drawing back the hammer, pain like nothing he had ever experienced shattering his wrists. 

"...please...please let her go," he moaned tears welling over his lashes, trickling down to disappear into the matted hair along his temple. 

"I can not, my son." 

He watched through hooded eyes as Ingalles walked around him disappearing somewhere behind his head. 

"Forgive me Father...Lord of all Lords for what I do." 

Suddenly the cross jerked upward, the sound of grinding metal filling Mulder's ears as he began to scream. Shattered bones ground together as his weight shifted, his vision graying out as he felt warm blood begin to seep up around the wounds in his wrists. 

"Son of the Father...Bringer of Light. You must suffer the sins of your Father's children. Save us from temptation." 

With one last howl the darkness unfolded around Mulder. 

* * *

As Scully slipped the robe over her still damp skin she jerked upright at the sound of distant agony. 

A scream so sharp it shattered her heart. 

"Mulder!" His name exploded from her lips as she fell to her knees. "MULDER!!" 

Collapsing into herself as the screams faded, she folded her hands in prayer. 

"Our Father...who art in he...heaven," she gasp through trembling lips, "...hal...hallowed be thy...thy name." 

Tears fell staining the brilliant white of the robe. 

"...please dear Lord...save him from the darkness," her words were almost child like as they flowed over her dust dry lips. "If ever I needed you hear me now." 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
10:45 PM

* * *

Jerking awake Skinner rubbed his exhausted eyes, trying to remove grit from his lashes. He had fallen asleep over the pages of the bible that seemed his only hope of finding Mulder and Scully. 

Another sharp ring sent him fumbling through his coat pockets for his cell. 

"Skinner!" 

"Sir, it's Agent Perez." 

"Where the hell have you been?" He was annoyed with this little bastard. Since he had announced he was in charge of the investigation Perez had made himself scarce. 

"The coroner's office, sir. Ingellas' coffin was opened a few moments ago." 

"And?" 

"Something was missing." 

"Something? Ingalles' body?" Skinner sat up rolling his neck, popping the tight muscles. 

"No, sir. His body was still there, but his head was missing." 

"His head?!" 

"Yes, sir. The local pathologist is taking a look at the body now, but it appears the head was removed sometime ago." 

"Thank you for the call Perez. As soon as the coroner has some information please contact me." 

"Yes, sir." 

The line went dead with a snap leaving Skinner staring at the phone in his hand. 

Why the hell would someone want Ingalles' head? 

Swallowing back nausea he stood grabbing his coat, then headed for the door. Just as he was about to close the door he glanced back at the table. Maybe, he thought, the answer still lay in the bible. 

Moving back to the table he grabbed the bible. 

It was here, he knew it. 

All the answers. 

Turning he left wondering what Sheffield might have found out about Philadelphia. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
12:00 AM

* * *

Scully woke at the sound of the door opening, her body aching from the long sleep on the cold tile floor. For a moment she could have sworn it wasn't Ingalles standing there in the door, but someone else. 

Someone who seemed familiar. 

"Mary it is time," Ingalles held out his hand. 

Taking those pale fingers she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. 

"Time?" She studied the calm expression in his pale eyes. 

Nodding Ingalles turned, guiding her out into a candlelit hall. Shadows danced along damp earthen walls reminding her of the pictures of the catacombs beneath Paris. 

"An excellent analogy Mary. These tunnels though were created during the Civil War. The priests of this parish helped with the smuggling of slaves to the North." 

"How did you know what I was thinking?" 

A smile teased at the corners of his mouth. 

"When I was transferred here I decided to learn as much as I could of the church. I was lucky in that the only other who knew of this place was another priest, Father DuQuion was born and raised here. When  
I entered this parish he was a ninety years old." 

"You still didn't tell me...," 

"I am the messenger." 

His words sent a chill through her soul, but what she saw next tore her insides apart. 

The cross now hung from the ceiling of the chamber, candles surrounding it in a halo of fire. Candlelight shimmered across  
Mulder's pale skin, highlighting the muscles drawn taunt beneath with flickering shadows. 

"Oh...my god," she choked as she moved  
forward, "...please god, free him." Collapsing at the foot of the cross she quickly made the sign of cross. 

"Beautiful is he not?" 

Her eyes lifted of their own will despite the fear that clouded her thoughts. His head lay slumped across one shoulder, a crown of thorns resting on his sweat soaked brow. 

"Why?" She whispered. 

"To save the world...to protect his name." 

All she could see was Mulder's face, pale and damp, dark circles beneath his eyes. 

He was alive, she thought, as his lashes fluttered against his bruised skin. 

Nothing seemed to register, but her partner, the man she loved more than life itself. Even as Ingalles chained her to the floor where she knelt. As the lock clicked into place she noticed something else in front of her. 

A skull. 

Strips of flesh still clinging to the smooth ivory. 

"Who?" The words barely passed her lips when she heard his laughter. Looking up into who she had thought was Ingalles' face she suppressed a gasp. 

"Surprised?" He whispered. 

"It can't be...it just can't," her eyes widened. 

Before her the image she had began to hate shimmered like heat on summer tarmac. Eyes changing as a whisper of mist rose from the tall lean body. 

"He was right you know. You are the reincarnation of Mary Magdelen. The time is near and I must finish the work we interrupted." 

"Why? God damn you why?" 

"Because he was and will ever be my father." 

Insane laughter filled the room as father and son separated into two. One very much human and the other a spirit escaped from the flames of hell itself. 

* * *

**DRURY INN**  
 **ROOM 210**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
10:05 AM

* * *

The persistent buzzing of his cell phone pulled Skinner from the darkest of nightmares into the dim reality of his hotel room. Rolling over he fumbled until his fingers wrapped around the cool plastic, punching the talk button he let out a string of curses as he knocked his glasses off the night stand. 

"Skinner!" 

"Sir...I'm sorry to disturb you, but I discovered the information you needed. At least I discovered part of it." Sheffield's voice was filled with exhaustion. 

"What is it?" Leaning over he scooped his glasses up from the carpet, settling them on the bridge of his nose. 

"You were right, sir. Ingalles had an affair with a sixteen year old girl that resulted in her pregnancy. The affair was discovered by the young girl's parents when she confessed she was pregnant. In the beginning she refused to acknowledge who the father was, but her father had some powerful friends." 

"What happened?" 

"He hired a private detective to follow his daughter. The detective was able to produce some damning photos of the girl with Ingalles. Apparently when the photos were shown to her father he went straight to the archdiocese and demanded they get rid of Father Ingalles or he was going to turn the photos over to the cops, not to mention the media. The result of that meeting was Ingalles' transfer to California." 

Skinner moved to the dresser, studying his reflection. Running his palm along his jaw he thought of the sickness that Ingalles had visited on an innocent. If only it had stopped there, but he was allowed to continue on resulting in the deaths of eight people almost thirty years later. 

"What happened to the girl?" 

"She was sent to live with relatives in Boston. Two months later on March 17,1960 she gave birth to a healthy baby boy who was given up for adoption." 

"Who adopted him?" 

"The records are sealed, sir." 

"I need that information," yanking open his briefcase he retrieved his address book, "...I need you to place a call to 617-555-9295. Ask for Devlynn Cavanaugh, she's an old friend and a judge, she owes me a favor. Tell her Walter ask you to call. If she has a problem have her call me on my cell." 

Before Sheffield could reply he hung up. 

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
10:15 AM

* * *

Hours had passed or perhaps it had been days. Scully had lost all concept of time...of reality. 

All there was, all there could be was his pain. 

His pain. 

Her guilt. 

Nothing else to nourish her, but the dregs of her splintered faith. 

Through chapped lips the words of childhood escaped with each agonized beat of her heart. With the final wisps of her fading strength she desperately gathered those splinters trying to fit it all together again. 

So many doubts. 

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." 

Was this his will? 

How could he allow this if he truly existed? 

"DAMN YOU!" She screamed into the writhing shadows. 

There were no more tears to shed, only her anger at a being she had wasted her faith on. There was no God there couldn't be, for how could a creator abandon his child in her hour of need? 

"You bastard," she whispered, "...don't do this. Don't take him from me." With those few angry words her eyes drifted upward to where her soul was slowly slipping away. 

So pale, she thought, I'm so sorry Mulder. 

"Do you weep for him my child or do you weep for yourself?" 

She refused to meet his eyes. Eyes she had known once long ago in another lifetime... 

* * *

**HACIENDA TECALITLAN**   
**CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**   
**APRIL 21, 1990**

* * *

"What's wrong Dana?" 

Glancing up from her plate she met Jamie Perez's warm coco eyes. She hadn't really liked him much in the beginning, but now...well he had grown on her. He was a family man and he had understood her loneliness at being so far from her's during the Ingalles investigation. 

"I made a mistake Jamie." She was shocked by her own words. 

Settling down in the chair across the table he waved over the waiter ordering a Corona from the bar. "Would you like anything Dana?" 

She shook her head, poking at the remains of her vegetarian fajita. Why was she doing this, she wondered? 

"Is it Jason?" 

Give Agent Perez a cookie for incredible insight, she thought, smiling at the way he leaned in studying her face. "Yes...I...we have a...," was relationship the right word? 

"You're lovers," he blurted out as the waiter returned. 

Her eyebrow rose skyward. "How?" 

Laughing he tipped back the beer, taking a deep swallow. 

"Please don't tell me everyone knows." She slid the plate to the side. 

"Nope, but then again I'm a little more observant than these other hacks." Jamie waved towards a small group of fellow agents that stood near the fountain laughing as they toasted the conviction. "Jason is an open book has been since he came to the Chicago Bureau. He thinks he's in love..." 

"...and I'm not," she finished. Catching the waiter's eye she ordered a margarita. "I'm going back to Quantico. I was offered a teaching position in forensics...it's a wonderful opportunity for me." 

They sat silently for a few minutes the sound of the mariachi band drifting over the flow of the fountain. Such a beautiful place and here she was bemoaning the fact she had to push a wonderful man away. She should be enjoying the atmosphere, not sulking. 

"Introduce him to Megan. She's hot for him...has been since the beginning." 

Leaning back she smiled. 

* * *

**POLICE HEADQUARTERS**  
 **WARRENTON, ILLINOIS**  
11:45 AM

* * *

Strolling through the bustling crowd of felons and officers Skinner almost ran into Sheffield as his phone rang. 

"Sorry agent," he mumbled as he flipped open the phone. "Skinner!" He barked hoping it was Perez with news from the coroner. 

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend," a soft sultry voice whispered in his ear. 

"Devlynn," a warm blush tinged the tops of his ears as that voice brought back less than appropriate memories. 

"What is this I hear about you wanting a favor?" 

"I need those records Dev and you owe me." 

"Don't worry Walter I always pay my debts in full. I have them right here. Do you have access to a fax?" 

"Yes...let's see," he stepped into the office heading for the fax, "...618...555...0219." 

"They're on the way sweetie." 

As the first page began to print a sigh of relief escaped his lungs. "We're even now Dev." 

"Oh, no we are not," she laughed softly. 

"What the hell are you...," 

"Now Walter hon' don't get those tighty whities in a bunch. I'm going to be in DC around the end of January and expect you and I to have lunch. A nice one and you can give me the grand tour of the Hoover. Maybe even a private tour of your office." 

A flush crept across his cheeks as he began to laugh. 

"Chow Walter, mi amore." 

Devlynn never changed, he thought, as he tucked the cell into the inside pocket of his coat. Reaching out he grabbed the sheaf of papers that had finished printing. 

"Sir, Perez just called. He says that he discovered something." 

Settling down in the chair he flipped over the papers to begin reading. "What did he say?" 

Sheffield cleared her throat. "He thinks he knows where they are...Scully and Mulder." 

"Where?" His eyes jerked up from the papers. 

"Holy Spirit Church, sir." She nervously shifted from foot to foot. 

"The forensic team tore that place apart...how in the hell could they possibly be...," his words drifted as she held up a leather bound journal. 

"Perez had this couriered over this morning. Apparently Jason Devereux was still doing some investigating into the Ingalles case as recent as six months ago. This was in his personal effects at his office in Chicago." 

Taking the book Skinner flipped open the cover coming to a random page and began to read out loud. 

"...it isn't over not by a long shot. I can't let him rest, he did to much evil in this world. His secret place has been discovered. How could we have missed it all those years ago? Tunnels. Beneath his home, the place where he brought his victims over and over. Where he murdered Debbie, the first woman I ever loved.  
Why does he haunt me? Even here and now." 

Skinner paused studying Sheffield's pale face as she fidgeted with file folders and pencils. 

"...the study beneath the window seat. So simple, yet we never saw it. Why would we?" He sat the journal down. "Who else knows about this?" 

"Just Perez and me. He told me to keep it quite." 

"I'm sure he did." His eyes drifted down to the adoption records. 

"I want the main investigative team in here in fifteen minutes." 

"Sir?" 

"Don't think just get it done. We're going to Holy Spirit, we're getting my agents and I'm going to kill that son of bitch with my bare hands," he hissed through clenched teeth. 

* * *

**BENEATH HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**  
 **DECEMBER 24, 2000**  
12:30 PM

* * *

Pain rippled across his body as he looked down from his lofty prison. She knelt at his feet, a veil of white leaving her face in shadow. He could hear the whispered plea of her words as she prayed to her God...a God that ceased to exist for him years ago when he had lost his reason for being. 

"Hear me Father...spare his life. Help me find a way to save him from this." 

He had never heard her like this before, not even when she lay dying of the cancer as it ate her body away, her very soul. 

The sound of shattered bones grinding together as he weakly struggled to free himself sent chills down his spine. 

He had lost all feeling in his hands and feet hours ago so he was grateful for the shock. 

Metal grinding against bone, against shredded flesh. 

The spikes that held him to the wooden limbs of the crude cross had marked him for life, even if he escaped this place he would carry the marks for the rest of his life. 

Fire rippled up his side as he took ragged breaths through the rag that gagged him. When Ingalles or whoever he was had tired of his screams he had shoved the rag in his mouth silencing them. 

With blurry eyes he watched as the bastard came close a long wooden spear in his hands. The sharpened metal tip glinting in the dim candlelight. 

"The final wound...the wound that will send you to the bowels of hell to release him. So shall the Harrowing of Hell begin and the first seal will be broken. So says the Lord almighty." 

Lifting the spear he held it to Mulder's side, his eyes shining with a fevered reverence. 

"I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, 'Come!' I looked, and there before me was a white horse! It's rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest." 

The blade slid across Mulder's rib cage, then down into the flesh beneath his pale skin. He screamed louder than he thought possible as fire exploded in his body. 

"Stop it! Stop it! You sick fucker...oh, Jesus he can't take any more. You twisted son of a bitch!" Scully screamed as she pulled at the chain that bound her to the concrete. "He isn't the one who did it! I did! God, please it's me you want...not him!" 

"Hush Mary...," the spears blade ripped another muffled shriek from Mulder's lungs. 

"I am not Mary! Why can't you understand that!?" 

"But you are my love...my sweet arrogant whore." 

* * *

**HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH**  
 **DECEMBER 24, 2000**  
12:30 PM

* * *

They had entered the church heading straight for where Ingalles' study had been. Slowly they had began to work their way through the room, but Skinner headed straight for the window that faced out onto the snow covered field behind the church. 

"It's here...I know it," he mumbled as he knelt in the dusty floor peering at the intricate woodwork. "Dammit Sheffield help me!" 

Kneeling next to him she began to run her fingers beneath the window seat. "What would he use, sir?" 

"Use?" Skinner turned to her. 

"Ingalles was a biblical scholar...an intelligent man by all accounts. A lock to his 'home' would have some meaning would it not?" Her dark eyes studied him, searching for some hope. 

"His speciality was apocalyptic prophecy wasn't it?" Skinner frowned in concentration. Over the last two days he had read and reread the Book of Revelations. The answer was there he just had to see it, recognize it. 

His eyes drifted over the intricate pictographs...something about the second coming, about the lord on... 

"Revelations 7:11!" He cried. "All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God..." 

In the center of the seats base was a throne, a figure seated with a lamb at it's feet and four angels. Two on either side holding palm leaves as if to shelter the throned figure. 

"It's the angels! Sheffield on the count of three push at the two angels on your side." 

Pressing his fingers to the figures he began to count. 

"One...two...three!" 

Together they pressed all four angel figures in tandem. There was a shriek of wood against stone as the entire front opened out like two doors, the seat lifting upward. 

"Son of a bitch," gasp one of the silent crowd of stunned agents. 

A set of stone stairs descended down into the darkness, disappearing from view. Standing Skinner yelled for a flashlight, then started down, Sheffield close behind. As they slipped into the shadows a muffled scream echoed off the damp walls sending them running down the stairs. 

* * *

Mulder shrieked one final time his head falling forward as blood poured down his side, dripping onto the makeshift altar. 

"God please no!" Screamed Scully as she yanked desperately on the chain. Her wrists were bloody and bruised, but she didn't give a damn. All she wanted to do was kill that son of a bitch for taking her best friend from her. 

"Stop FBI!" 

Scully turned at the sound of Walter Skinner's roar as he appeared out of the darkness like an avenging angel. His gun was steady and aimed for the back of the bastard's head. 

"Sir! Please help him...please! Help Mulder!" 

All it took was a split second, but for Scully time itself seemed to slow. Skinner turned to her as Sheffield knelt picking the lock on the cuffs. Her jailer turned swinging the spear around aiming it at the AD's chest. 

Every agent in the room swung their weapon around, but it was a gun that fired from the shadowed stairwell that brought the madman to his knees. Skinner turned just as he lifted the spear again, blood soaking his shoulder. 

"You shall not stop the Apocalypse! You are just a man!" 

"So are you," growled Skinner his bullet hitting it's mark, sending the bastard's body slamming face first into the concrete floor. 

Skinner stood staring down at the lifeless body as the EMT's were ushered into the room. Slowly the cross was lowered to the ground, the shouts of the agents not drowning out Scully's sobbing as she knelt next to Mulder, calling his name. Swearing she would kill him if he died on her. 

"Good shot," he spoke to the agent next to him. 

"Not really...considering I was aiming for the fucker's head." 

Jamie Perez knelt in the floor rolling over the limp body, tears staining his face as he looked into wide lifeless eyes. 

The eyes of his boss. 

Jason Devereux. 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**  
 **EMERGENCY ROOM**  
 **CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**  
9:00 PM

* * *

Drifting through the waiting room Skinner sighed, popping the stiff muscles in his neck and shoulders. Four hours of paperwork and more questions than he had the patience to answer. He was exhausted, just fucking worn out and all he could think of was Mulder. 

Nails. 

Devereux had nailed him to a fucking cross just like Ingalles had done to his victims ten years ago. He supposed though like father...like son. The Bureau was going to have a hell of a PR problem in the morning when the smoke cleared. 

Around four he had excused himself and called the hospital demanding an update on his agents. At the time Mulder had still been in surgery and there was no news. 

No news was good news, he thought, as he approached the nurses station. 

Flashing his badge, he cleared his throat. "Assistant Director Walter Skinner I'm looking for..." 

"...your two agents that were brought in this afternoon," the greying nurse smiled sadly at him. 

Oh, my God Mulder was dead was his first thought. 

"Dana Scully is in intensive care. Let me show you to her room. Jenn could you...," she nodded to the young nurse at the computer. 

"Of course Margie." 

Silently Margie led him down the hall to the elevators. On the ride up the silence continued until he had the urge to interrogate the nurse under bright lights. 

When the doors opened she stepped out leading him to the end of the hall again. Pausing she turned to him with a soft nod. 

"She's been sedated, so if she seems a little disoriented don't worry. After all she's been through...I mean the rape...her poor partner..." 

"Rape?" Skinner choked out. 

Her eyes widened. "You didn't know? Goodness I'm sorry. I was told you had been informed of her condition." 

"Exactly what is her condition ma'am?" He leaned into the wall not willing to pass out in front of Margie. 

"She's in psychological as well as physical shock. Dehydration, she hasn't had food in at least three days. Both her wrists required around eight stitches, then of course...well you know." 

Skinner felt tears burning his eyes and the back of his throat. If that bastard was here he would kill him again, he thought. 

"Can I have a moment with her...Margie?" 

The nurse smiled gently. "Of course, but make it short. She needs her rest." Turning she walked back towards the elevators. 

Taking a deep breath Skinner pushed open the door walking into Scully's room. 

She sat in bed, pillows cushioning her head. Her eyes were focused on the window, overlooking the lights of Chicago. Skinner stood for a moment thinking how beautiful she was, even now in her suffering she radiated a strength that he envied. 

"If he dies it's my fault." 

Jerked from his musing he looked up in to swollen eyes, red from crying. He was across the room in five seconds flat, finding himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms encircling her shaking body. 

"No...don't ever think that Scully. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself," his fingers lifted her chin gently. "If nothing else I know that for a fact." 

Taking a shuddering breath she leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes. "They won't even let me see him." 

"I'll take care of that Dana." 

Her laughter was bitter as he looked on wondering if she hadn't made it out whole. That was when he noticed she wasn't wearing her cross. For as long as he had known her it had always rested against her skin, an unspoken clue to a woman who denied the unseen, yet clung to a faith that was in direct contradiction to her actions. 

Skinner's eyes drifted to where the cross lay tangled on the bedside table. 

"Your necklace," he whispered softly. 

Eyes meeting her laughter ceased. "A symbol of fools," she answered. 

He felt like crying right there beneath the harsh lights for the entire world to see. This was a moment he had never thought he would witness. Dana Scully had survived, but was empty now, her faith lost. 

Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, at a lose for words. 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**  
 **ICU**  
10:00 PM

* * *

Mulder felt himself drowning in a darkness that was cold, yet warm at the same time. 

Drifting...lost. 

"Fox?" 

Achingly slow he forced his eyes open to the soft voice. A stout middle-aged nurse stood next to the bed, her chestnut hair curling around her plump face. His eyes drifted down to where a glossy tag read 'Owens'. 

"Don't try to speak Fox you're still on the respirator and I know it's uncomfortable. I'm here to watch over you...okay?" 

He nodded a feeling of peace descending over his aching body. Studying the room he could feel the bed as it lifted up. He had no memory of how he had gotten here, his last clear one of his captor pushing the spear into his side, then nothing. 

"Dana is close," Owens whispered against his cheek as though she could read his mind. 

Shaking his head, he turned away from her soft eyes. 

"She needs you to live Fox. There is an important job I need you to do." 

His brows rose in question. 

"You will know when it is time. Sleep now." His eyes began to grow heavy. As the nurse's voice faded into the drug induced ether. 

"There is always a reason." 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**  
 **ICU WAITING ROOM**  
10:15 AM

* * *

Pacing the long narrow room Skinner waited for the doctor with what little patience he still possessed. Flashing his credentials had gotten him no where with the staff. Apparently being an assistant director of the FBI wasn't on the top ten list of impressive jobs any longer. 

What made him more nervous was when the staff had headed into Mulder's room shortly after his arrival. An alarm had went off and suddenly they were moving as one well oiled machine. Lifting his head his eyes settled on a tall slim grey haired man in blue scrubs walking towards him. 

"Excuse me, doctor?" 

"You must be Walter Skinner. The nurses told me you were quite imposing." 

"Couldn't have told from their lack of response." 

Laughing, the doctor offered his hand. "Dr. Phil Lassiter. It's nice to know our staff can even cow a man like you. They're used to the emotional outbursts and threats that can happen in such an emotionally charged environment." 

"So...what was that all about? Is he..." 

"He's fine for the moment. Mr. Mulder woke up for the first time since he left surgery. We removed the respirator and tried to make him more comfortable." 

"Can he have visitors?" 

"Yes, but just a few minutes at a time. I understand that his partner...," he flipped through the chart he held, "...Dana Scully wants to see him. I can give permission, but I think you should go in first. Speak to him." 

Skinner nodded in agreement. He wanted to be prepared to explain to Scully what she needed to know. "Can I see him now?" 

"Of course, as soon as we finish up. I have to tell you that there's a possibility Mr. Mulder will not regain full use of his hands. His wrists were both shattered, but thankfully the nails missed the major arteries. There may be nerve damage so I've called in a colleague in neurology. The damage was also...well miraculously...minimual to his feet. Both are broken, but he should be able to walk again." 

"You say miraculous...why?" Skinner studied the confused expression on Lassiter's face. 

Shaking his head Lassiter met his eyes. "The damage should have been worse. When he  
was airlifted in I would have thought it was hopeless, that he would have died from shock or at the very least been crippled for life." 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**  
 **ROOM 210**  
12:15 AM

* * *

"Dana?" 

Glancing from the darkness outside the window she met Jamie Perez's worried eyes. He moved into the room, pulling a chair up to her bedside. 

"Are you?" His words were overly loud in the silent room. 

"I'll be okay. It's been a long time Jamie." 

"It's a shame it had to be this way." 

"Who was it Jamie...who?" Her voice shook as she asked a question she knew the answer too. 

"You know who it was Dana." 

A look of disbelief crossed her eyes, shimmering like unshed tears. "I watched him laid to rest Jamie...I saw the coffin lowered into...into..." 

Grasping her hand he kissed it gently. "It was Jason. God help me it was him...I don't want...I didn't want to believe it." 

"How?" Scully bit into her lip, tears trembling along her lashes. 

"AD Skinner he figured it out after he sent the message to the police station. He contacted a judge in Boston to open some sealed adoption records from 1960. He admitted that he thought it was me, but when I sent him Jason's journal he didn't have a chance to check the adoption file." 

"Adoption?" She cleared her throat. 

"James Ingalles had an affair with a young woman in Philadelphia at his first parish. Jason was the result of that affair." Perez sighed as he stood, walking to the window. "After the trial...after you left...Jason went through a rough time. There was medical leave, in-depth counseling, but when Megan came into the picture he seemed to get back on track." 

"What do you think happened?" 

Jamie turned back to her with a grim expression. "We pieced together that he discovered he had been adopted during the counseling. He apparently tracked down his birth mother after he married Megan. Theresa LaVelle who was his first victim...he must have snapped then. That was two years ago. He continued to do research on Ingalles after that. Three of the people involved in the investigation and trial died over the last two years. Jason had met with them shortly before their deaths." 

Scully suddenly felt colder than she ever had before, even more so than Antarctica. A chill that had soaked to the depths of her soul. She hadn't wanted to believe, but now she had no choice. 

"What is it Dana?" Perez grabbed her hand squeezing it gently. 

"But they identified Jason's body." She whispered. 

"He switched dental records I'm guessing. When they found his body it was pretty torn up. They used the dental records to do a positive ID." 

"What about DNA?" 

"Apparently he covered all his bases. We're trying to identify who the man was in Jason's grave now." 

"Megan?" 

"She's doing better, but it's going to be a long road." 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**  
 **ICU**  
12:20 AM

* * *

For the second time tonight Skinner walked into a hospital room, his stomach churning. He was grateful that Mulder looked better than he had expected. 

His skin was almost as pale as the sheets beneath him and Skinner thought he might be asleep at first. Standing over Mulder he took in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the heavy bandages around his arms and feet. He knew Scully blamed herself, but how could she have known. 

"How is she?" 

Skinner's eyes lifted to met Mulder's dark with sorrow and dilated with pain medication. 

"Physically? Good, but mentally..." 

Mulder turned away tears slipping from beneath bruised lids. "I should have been able to protect her...I should have stopped it." 

"Why? Because you're a man? Because you're her partner?" Skinner pulled a chair up, settling down with a groan of exhaustion. 

"Yes...," Mulder choked out. 

"You're human Mulder. We all have moments of weakness...moments where our destiny is torn from our hands. There was nothing you could have done." 

"...but...but I...I should..." 

"Stop taking the blame for everything that happens," his words were firm, but filled with care for the man who lay trembling in the bed. 

Mulder blinked back tears as Skinner squeezed his shoulder gently. "She's in there in her room doing the same thing. Blaming herself for the pain you're in." 

"She isn't at fault sir. If anything I am for allowing myself to be abducted by Ingalles." 

"Mulder you do realize who that man was...right?" His eyes filled with concern as he saw the anger flash in Mulder's eyes. 

"Yes, I do. Somehow he got out of prison...he escaped his execution...we have to..." 

"Ingalles is dead Mulder. He has been for two years." 

"But he was there...I swear sir it was him." 

"No, Mulder it was Jason Devereux. He was Ingalles son, he started by getting vengeance on those he believed robbed him of his right to confront his father. It started with his birth mother. I truly believe that he was sent over the edge by the truth he uncovered." 

Mulder continued to shake his head in denial. 

"I saw him...I know what I saw." 

"Mulder listen to me. Whatever happened in there I'm asking you to put it aside for now. Scully needs you now, just as you need her." 

Skinner stood, letting his fingers unfold he revealed the tiny gold cross, winking in the dim light. "She's lost something that only you can help her discover again." 

Turning he walked away, leaving Mulder to contemplate the cross that lay tangled in his lap. 

* * *

**MT. SINAI HOSPITAL**   
**CHAPEL**   
**DECEMBER 31, 2000**   
**FIVE DAYS LATER**

* * *

Candlelight flickered through the shadowed chapel, the scent of abundant flowers over shadowing the antiseptic smell. 

Skinner had told her that she needed to focus on herself and at first she had argued. All she wanted was to see Mulder, to touch him and know that he would be all right, but she knew he was right. They both needed time. 

Dr. Lassiter knowing she was a doctor herself allowed her to review Mulder's files to ease her worry. His friend Dr. Piper LaRue, a brilliant neurologist had given Mulder a clean bill on the possibility of nerve damage. She was amazed at the lack of damage just as Lassiter had been. 

Once she might have thought of it as a miracle, but no longer. As a matter of fact she didn't understand why she was here now. 

"Dana." 

Wheeling her chair around she raised a brow at the plump woman who stood in the door. "Do I know you?" She asked feeling that she should. 

"Oh I doubt that unless you've been here before. I've been a nurse for a long time." 

"Can I help you?" 

The woman approached closer. Scully was sure she recognized her, but from where...perhaps she had seen her in the halls. 

"Peaceful isn't it." 

"I suppose," Scully turned away, studying the brilliance of the stained glass window. "I'm not religious though." 

"Are you sure about that dear?" 

Scully turned back to the altar, then took a deep breath, ready to demand why this woman was questioning her. 

She was gone. 

Someone else was there though. 

Tears welled in her eyes as Lassiter wheeled in a chair. 

"Mulder?" 

Mulder turned to Lassiter and nodded as if in answer to an unspoken question. 

Silence engulfed them as they sat next to each other, both unsure what to say. How to express their relief at finally being reunited. 

"I missed you," Mulder whispered. 

"Me too." 

"How are you?" His voice rose, trembling. 

"I'll live and you?" 

"Yeah...didn't lose anything important, but I think you did." 

She turned, her eyes drifting to where his bandaged hands and wrists lay in his lap. A tiny light flickered in the hazel depths of his eyes as she smiled. 

"Mulder...," there was an amused warning in her tone. 

"No, really Scully," he laughed nervously as he stiffly lifted his hands. 

A breath caught in her throat. Laying in the folds of the blanket across his lap was her necklace, the tiny cross glimmering in the candlelight. 

"I can't...," she whispered. 

Mulder glanced up at the simple cross that stood on the chapel altar, a flash of pain crossing his eyes. 

"What is communion Scully?" 

His question caught her off guard. 

"It's the partaking of Christ's flesh and blood to commemorate his sacrifice." Her voice trembled as she began to remember her first communion. 

"And what does it do for those that believe?" 

"It's a way to bring them closer to God, to reaffirm their faith in his sacrifice to mankind." 

Mulder nodded, taking in her words. 

"Do you know what it is that has sustained use over the years Scully? Do you know what has given me the strength to continue when everything has fallen around me?" 

"No." She whispered. 

"Your faith Scully. When I was at my weakest you were there to give me strength, to share your faith. Don't let this destroy that." 

Looking into his eyes it was as if a light filled her for the first time since their abduction. Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned in her hand cupping Mulder's cheek. 

"I still need that faith Scully...," he whispered, "...and so do you. Without it I don't think we'll make it through this." His words choked off in a half sobbed breath. 

Laying her head on his shoulder she let the tears fall, her shoulders shaking with each breath. Maybe he was right. Maybe all of this had been a test. 

A test of a faith that had been slowly slipping away. 

"Forgive me God. I'm so sorry," her words came out muffled as Mulder leaned in, his lips brushing her hair. 

Slowly her hand drifted to his lap, lifting the fine spun chain from it's resting place. They would make it through this, they had to, she thought. 

Perhaps this hadn't been her final communion. 

Maybe it was just the beginning. 

**THE END?**

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